Letters From A Stranger
by LionsMakeYouBrave
Summary: I will never make you feel inferior, I will never make you feel as if you don't matter because you do. You do matter. I have never had one conversation with you, but I know that your life is precious.


**I figured I would try out this idea that's been stuck in my head for awhile.**

**Title: **Letters From A Stranger**  
Summary: **Santana used to struggle with her own life. She found a program where she could write other people who are currently struggling with the things she had learned to overcome. Will the stranger she is writing to accept her advice or will they once again try to end their life?  
**Rating : **M (just for the touchy subject of suicide and further chapters.

* * *

Santana has never done anything like this before. She has never really ever though to, but today she enrolled in a pen pal project. The rules were simple; write down which category you relate most to (family problems, losing someone to death, drug abuse, anger issues, or attempted suicide). From there the program would pick a young adult who lived in a behavioral institute to be your pen pal. The first note you would write them didn't have to have any details. The patients who agreed to this program would not have any of your information except for a number that let the program know who to send the letters to. The goal was to use experiences from life to help the patient through.

Santana stared for the longest time at the sheet. Which one to check off, she had no idea. She related a lot of with drug abuse. But then she remembered the time in tenth grade where she was in these patients from all over the world's position. Santana check-marked "Attempted suicide".

Attached to the form was a sheet of paper in which she was supposed to write a short paragraph to whomever she would be paired with.

Santana tapped her pen on the table, trying to figure out what to write. She didn't want to go full out and be like "HEY! MY NAME'S SANTANA LOPEZ. I LOVE SOCCER AND I ONCE TRIED TO KILL MYSELF." That was not how she wanted to go about this. She thought of the best thing she could. She knew whoever she was writing to could use a little smile on his/her face. She remembered she sure needed one when she was in this position.

_Hey there,  
I hope that you are having a wonderful day! I'm your new pen pal. I know that it must be weird, having a complete stranger write to you… but who knows! Maybe something will come out of it. I hope it does anyway. I don't know you yet, so I can't be one to give out advice to you, but I want you to know that for as long as I am your pen pal, I will listen to you, I will never make you feel inferior, I will never make you feel as if you don't matter because you do. You do matter. I have never had one conversation with you, but I know that your life is precious. I hope to hear back from you soon._

_#7268262_

She slipped the form and the paragraph into a manila folder before handing it to one of the program operators. She gave the man a quick smile before walking out of the building.

She grasped the coat closer to her chest as she walked down the semi-cold Colorado air. As she passed through downtown, Santana started to feel uneasy. What if this person decided she wasn't worth the time? Her parents already thought that her, she doesn't need some stranger to think this. Should she go in there and take it back? Will she have to relive everything that happened to her?

_Maybe this was a mistake_.

* * *

As Brittany sat in her room, her eyes open and shut frantically. The nightmares had been getting worse, the memories on repeat. She looked down at her arm and all of the patterns that had turned from cuts to scars. She traced a few before sighing loudly. She didn't want to be here. Here being the Earth. But by some "miracle", as the doctors called it, here she is, hating her life even more.

It's been two weeks since her parents had visited her last. They used to come everyday, but the visits became less frequent as soon as they realized their daughter was still making no progress.

Brittany has been in Cambridge Behavioral/Mental Illness Center for the last seven months after attempting to kill herself. She cut her forearms top to bottom and tried to hang herself. She didn't want to explain it to anyone, why she had tried to do it. She didn't even leave a note. As far as she can remember, she didn't talk for the first three months. The first time she had said anything, it was "You should have left me where I was." After that day, she stopped talking again.

Brittany had never wanted to die so much than she did the day she tried to commit suicide. But whenever anyone tried to get it out of her, she just shook her head and walked off.

So she did the same routine everyday. She lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing she was elsewhere. The sky was getting dark and she knew she should probably just close her eyes and get some sleep.

There was a faint knock on the door before the nurse pushed her way through.

"Brittany, you have mail." The nurse smiled.

_Mail?_ She thought, _But I've never gotten mail before. I bet it's my parents telling me I'm stuck here forever. That's all I really fucking need  
_

Brittany sat up and rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes. The nurse walked towards her bed and handed her a small envelope.

Never have gotten a letter before, Brittany eagerly opened it. As she read the words from the stranger who had written to her, the muscles in her cheeks pulled her lips into a small smile.

This is the first time in seven months that Brittany has ever truly smiled. She feels a few tears pool in her eye. She blinks letting them roll down her cheek. She wipes them away with the sleeve of her scrubs.

"That person has been assigned to you. They write you and you write them back, like a pen pal." The nurse said, smiling in her direction.

Brittany sat there, constantly rereading the 130 words this random, kind stranger had written her.

"Do you want to respond to them?" Brittany only nods her head excitedly. The nurse hands her a packet. "When your done, put it in this folder with your number which is 27488269. Then you're going to write your pen pals number under the send area. Their number was 7268262. That way you the operator can send it to the right person until you two are under name basis, okay?" The nurse hands Brittany a pen or any writing utensil really. This is the first time that they ever allowed Brittany a pen, being at such a high suicide risk.

The nurse stood in the doorway as Brittany stared at the blank sheet of paper. She had no idea what to write and it was awkward with the nurse watching her. Brittany sighed, pressing the pen to the paper before pulling it off again.

_Hello.  
Thank you so much for writing me. I don't know what to start with, but I wanted to say that I appreciate you doing this for me. I've never had a pen pal. Then again, I never really had many friends. I don't know what to write. Am I supposed to tell you about myself? What I like and why I'm struggling? I want to, but I guess since I don't even know your name, I will just have to wait. There is a nurse looking over my shoulder as I write, it's kind of freaking me out a bit. I'm nervous, I'll admit. But I just wanted to say 'Thank you'. Because of your note, I smiled for the first time in a long time. Your letter meant a lot. I look forward to the next one I receive._

_Oh, by the way. My name is Brittany._

_#27488269_

After Brittany felt satisfied enough with her letter, she slipped it into the manila folder the nurse had given her.

She handed the folder back to the nurse.

"Thank you," The nurse said. "It's lights out, though, Brittany. You need your pills, I will be back with them."

Brittany groaned. She hated taking pills. Even worse, she hated that if she resisted, they practically force fed them to her.

But today, Brittany complied. Maybe it was this stranger who wrote the note. Actually, she knew it was the stranger. She grabbed the letter and set it on the bookshelf.

The nurse returned with her pills and a cup of water. Brittany quickly took them so the nurse would be out of her hair. The nurse turned off her lights as she exited the room.

Brittany crawled into her bed reaching over to her bookshelf to grab the letter. The faint moonlight was shining through her window just enough for her to reread the letter over and over again.

For the first time since she tried to kill herself, Brittany Susan Pierce was content with the fact that she was alive.

* * *

**So what do you think? Do you like it or hate it? By the way, Cambridge Behavior/Mental Illness Center is a made up place. Pay no mind. But Cambridge is in Massachusetts. **

**YAY OR NAY? R&R Please :)**


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